Chessboxing
by CosmicKitten89
Summary: Alvin can't play chess, and Simon can't box, so they must combine their talents to succeed at the sport of chessboxing.  Problem is, tag-teaming is not allowed.
1. A New Sport

Chessboxing

**I made up this story, along with several others, about one and a half years ago. Let's just say it was a very dull time of my life; pretty much all I could do to keep from going crazy was write stories. I saw a thing on television about chessboxing, and I thought about how Simon was good at the chess but not so much at the boxing, and vice versa for Alvin. I am now refining it and publishing it for your reading pleasure. Enjoy!**

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Alvin and the Chipmunks)**

"There's nothing on…" Alvin grumbled as he flipped through the TV stations. "Reruns, kiddie cartoons, more reruns…"

He eventually decided to tune into ESPN, even though there were no interesting sports on to watch at this time of day. In fact, ESPN was instead showing a documentary.

"Chessboxing is the latest craze to hit the States from Europe", the television narrator blared.

"Chessboxing? What a stupid idea!" Alvin thought.

"As no tag-teaming is allowed, competitors must be skilled both at chess and at boxing…"

"Each round begins with four minutes of chess followed by a one-minute break and then a three-minute boxing round…"

Alvin yawned. "How lame. I'll bet it'll never catch on here…"

Alvin was almost asleep when the commercial break came on.

"Announcing the First Annual Southern California Regional Chessboxing Tournament! Featuring a grand prize of ten thousand dollars!"

Alvin woke at the mention of ten thousand dollars. "Simon!"

Simon was upstairs polishing one of his chess trophies. One of his many, _many_ chess trophies.

"Hey, Simon! Got a lot of chess trophies there, I see."

"And?" Simon placed the trophy down, polished his glasses, and stared at Alvin over the rims.

"Not resting on your laurels, are you? Shouldn't let all that chess talent go to waste…"

"And this concerns you because…?"

"Well, I just heard about this cool new sport on ESPN called chessboxing, and they're having a tournament this month right here in L.A.!"

"Chessboxing? I don't know, Alvin… I wouldn't be any good at that…"

"Sure you would! You're great at chess! I mean, look at all your trophies!"

"That may be so, but I am not great at boxing."

"If you can beat all the foes in four minutes you will never have to worry about the boxing!"

"Alvin, do you really think I can win every game of chess in four minutes?"

"I've seen you do it before! Besides, if you have to go in the ring, you only have to hang tight for three minutes and then you can finish them off at the chess…"

Alvin realized he was getting sidetracked. "Well, never mind the boxing. I can take care of the boxing! I do, after all, have a Junior Golden Glove…"

"Is it a tag-team competition, Alvin?" Simon seemed curious now.

"Um, no, but I was thinking we could switch out during every break time and trade places, like I did for you when you were too sick to play on that game show"

Simon sighed. "If you expect me to participate in this shenanigan, then you'd better have a very good reason."

"How about ten thousand dollars grand prize? I'll split you seventy-thirty."

"Fifty-fifty. And the trophy's mine."

"Deal". The chipmunk brothers shook hands.


	2. Lucky Socks

Chessboxing

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Alvin and the Chipmunks.)**

Simon asked Dave to sign him up for the Chessboxing Tournament.

"But Simon, since when are you into boxing?"

"Oh, well, actually, I've been practicing with Alvin. Oh, Alvin, would you like to show Dave what you've taught me about boxing?"

Simon winked at Alvin.

Alvin said, "Oh, yeah. I've taught him loads. He's a natural. Come on, Simon, show me your right hook."

Simon threw a weak punch in Alvin's face and Alvin yelped and fell down, pretending as though he had been slugged hard.

"Take it easy, Simon. Save your best punches for the competition."

"I don't know…" said Dave. "Are you sure you're ready for this? I wouldn't want you to get hurt…"

"Trust me. Simon's a champ!"

"He's correct, Dave. I've calculated the thrust and velocity of my punches, and the speed of my reflexes, and they are on par with Alvin's. In fact, though I am not _quite_ as strong as Alvin, my reflexes are quicker."

"Well, okay, then." Dave, though rather hesitantly, filled out the parental permission form.

On the day of the competition, Dave called, "Boys, it's time to go!"

Theodore and Simon ran down stairs to get in the car.

"Are you nervous, Simon?" Theodore asked.

"A little."

"Hey, what about Alvin?"

"He can't make it today."

Dave called, "ALLLVIN, we're leaving. Are you coming or not?"

"Sorry, Dave. I've, uh, got to work on an English paper that's due tomorrow."

"Alvin, tomorrow's Sunday."

"Did I say tomorrow? I meant the day after. Trust me, I'm going to need the extra study time."

"Alvin, since when do you worry about your study time?"

"Since they've threatened to suspend me from the football team! Yeah!"

"Well, that's too bad, Alvin."

"Yeah, I guess I shouldn't have spent all that time teaching Simon how to box."

While Dave was buckling up, Simon said, "WAIT! Dave, I forgot my lucky socks!"

"Simon, I didn't know you were superstitious."

"What do you mean you didn't know? I always wear my lucky socks when I play tournament chess."

Simon ran into the house to grab a random pair of socks, giving Alvin just enough time to run out to the back of the car. Alvin tried to open the trunk, but it was locked.

Simon went to the trunk with the keys to open it and to place his "lucky" socks, as well as Alvin, inside.

"Simon, why don't you just put your lucky socks on now?" asked Dave.

"I can't wear them until the competition," Simon said. "It'll jinx them".

When they got to the competition, Simon forgot all about his "lucky socks". He was sitting at the chess table, watching Dave and Theodore, as well as Miss Miller and the Chipettes, especially Jeanette, cheer him on. He watched Theodore eating his popcorn, acknowledging that Alvin was not in the crowd because he was supposed to be at home studying, when the fact was that he was locked in the trunk, where he wouldn't be able to trade places with Simon whenever the chess timer ran up.

Simon panicked. There was no time to ask Dave if he could run out and get the lucky socks and let Alvin out.

The first match started. Simon's foe looked like a formidable boxer, but Simon checkmated him in less than two minutes. It was the same story for his second and third foes, but the fourth foe was formidable. Simon would have no problem defeating him, but it was going to run a little over four minutes…

The referee called time. Simon had one minute to panic before he was thrown into the ring.


	3. Eye of the Tiger

_(Disclaimer: I do not own Alvin and the Chipmunks, nor the song "Eye of the Tiger")._

"Oh no!" gasped Jeanette.

"Finally, we get to see some action!" said Brittany.

"Go Simon!" shouted Theodore.

Simon gulped. He removed his glasses to place on the chess table so that they wouldn't be broken. His opponent looked blurry without the glasses, but Simon could still tell where the opponent was, and also see that he was very large for his weight class.

_Remember, it's just like what Alvin said,_ Simon thought_. I only have to avoid being knocked out for three minutes…_

_Ding!_ went the timer, and Simon cowered in the corner.

_(This is the part of the episode when you would hear the Chipmunks singing "Eye of the Tiger" in the background)._

_Rising up, straight to the top_

_Have the guts, got the glory…_

Simon darted out of the corner and into the adjacent side of the ring.

_Went the distance and I'm not gonna stop_

_Just a man and his will to survive…_

Simon got up, turned around and saw that his opponent had been right behind him. He ducked just in time to avoid being slugged in the face.

_It's the eye of the tiger, it's the cream of the fight_

_Risin' up to the challenge of our rival…_

Simon ran around in circles, terrified, but with the intention of confusing his opponent. He circled his opponent, who became somewhat dizzy from swerving around to throw punches, but Simon had very little physical stamina, being good only at sports at which he could use physics calculations to compensate for his lack of muscle power, and he was soon out of breath.

_And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night_

_And he's watchin' us all in the eye…. Of the tiger!_

Just a few more seconds, Simon thought, watching the timer. This boxing battle had become a battle of wits – like chess, but in real time. Whether you moved or not, when you moved, whether you or the foe moved first, which way you moved… it all mattered.

Simon waited as his foe contemplated what move to make. Putting himself in the opponent's place, trying to imagine what he was thinking, Simon calculated the best move to make, and made it.

_Three… two… one…_

_**Lyrics courtesy of lyrics007 (dot-com but I can't put dot-com at the end because it hyperlinks and gets deleted).**_


	4. Alvin's Stall

_(Disclaimer: I don't own Alvin and the Chipmunks)._

Simon made the one move that his opponent would never have expected.

He slugged him in the face.

Not hard enough to knock him out, but his opponent was shocked. The brute stumbled backward and fell onto his butt at the exact moment when time was called.

"Back to my kind of battlefield", Simon said.

Simon felt dazed coming back to the chessboard. He had played speed chess before, but he had never before played a game with his brain soaked in adrenaline from fear and his heart pounding from strenuous physical activity. He gathered his thoughts and remembered what he had been planning to do before time was called.

Simon mated his foe in two turns.

The tournament was now half over, and Simon had a break during which he could go out to the parking lot and let Alvin out.

"You did a great job, Simon," said Dave. I was really impressed. But the boxing was a close call. Aren't you afraid that you're in a bit over your head?"

"It's my lucky socks," Simon said. "I left them in the car. No wonder I almost lost to that guy."

"Well, if you insist…" Dave handed Simon the keys to the trunk.

Simon took the keys and dashed out to the car. As he twisted they key through the keyhole, he heard Alvin's grumpy muffled voice.

"Hey, Simon, it's your lucky socks. You forgot us!"

"Sorry about that".

"So, how did you do?"

"Great, until the last round. I had to box."

"Really? How did you survive?"

"By running around like a chicken. But I did throw a punch at the very last minute."

"Really? I'm so proud of you!"

"But it was close."

Simon pulled the socks out of the trunk before closing and locking it. "Better take these".

Simon led Alvin to the nearest restroom facility. "Now listen. You are to stay inside this bathroom stall until I come to get you during boxing rounds. Then you come back to get me when it's time for chess. Understood?"

"So for exactly how long am I supposed to be stuck in here?"

"Not long. The foes are getting tougher."

"Nothing you and I, the ultimate chessboxing team, can't handle."

"Just play it safe, Alvin."

"I'm a boxing champion, Simon, I think I can handle a bunch of jock-wannabe chess nerds."

"Really, Alvin, most of them are more aptly described as chess nerd-wannabe boxing jocks…"


	5. Wait Your Turn!

**Sorry for the long wait. I was busy with schoolwork, talking to my family, removing infections from my computer… anyway, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

Simon returned from the bathroom to face his next foe. Like the last one, this foe was too good to defeat in four minutes.

"Uh, I have urgent need to visit the restroom…" Simon said to the referee.

"Alright, one minute."

"One? Sir, I'm afraid it's going to take longer than a minute."

"Alright then. You get an extra minute for a bathroom break. But you forfeit if you're not back after two minutes."

Simon ran to the bathroom to fetch Alvin.

Alvin began to speak, but Simon shushed him and pointed to the next stall, which was occupied.

Alvin got it. He didn't want the occupant to overhear their plan and squeal on them.

Alvin ran confidently out into the ring. His foe was rather heavy for a lightweight boxer.

Alvin suddenly realized that Dave was watching, and expecting to see Simon. He probably wouldn't recognize Alvin from the distance of the boxing ring, but Alvin knew he had to act like Simon if Dave was not to be suspicious. He'd also have to avoid getting bruised so that the ref wouldn't wonder why his bruises disappeared after his bathroom break.

Alvin pretended to cringe at his rival. "Umm, according to my calculations, if I aim my punches with enough force at the right angle so that the cosine of the momentum is sixty degrees, they should have enough velocity to overcome the thrust of your punches…" Alvin was just shouting out random "nerd words", as he liked to call them, that he picked up from Simon without knowing exactly what they meant, knowing that no one else would and that no one would be able to call his bluff.

Still, the other boxer looked confused. Alvin took that moment to knock him in the face. His punches were so fast that his opponent didn't have time to retaliate. Left hook, right hook, Alvin's ambidexterity proved to be part of why he was such a good boxer. Still, at the rate at which he was punching the foe, he was unable to build up enough momentum in one fist to knock the foe to the floor without giving him opportunity to retaliate.

So he decided to pull a Simon cowardly move, to further his attempt at masquerading his brother, by running and darting from the boxer, and pretending to be scared (but trying not to scream, in case Dave could hear his voice and tell that it was him and not Simon).

But, during the last few seconds, he gave his foe a few hard punches just for the heck of it.

Brittany said, "Wow, I did you see that? I didn't know Simon had it in him!"

Jeanette said, "That isn't Simon! What he said at the beginning of the match made absolutely no sense! Simon knows that angles, not _cosines_, are measured in degrees!"

Brittany squinted at the boxing chipmunk. "You're right! That's Alvin!"

The foe remained bruised but undefeated at the end of the three minutes, and Alvin was untouched.

Before the chess round, Alvin asked if he could use the restroom.

"Again?" asked the referee.

"Um, overactive bladder!" Alvin said.

Alvin ran to the restroom and knocked on one of the closed stalls.

"Hello? Are you in there?"

"Wait your turn!" shouted the voice of a grumpy old man.

"Heh heh. Sorry," Alvin said sheepishly.

Simon opened the next stall over. "You were looking for me?"

Alvin quickly ran into the stall and let Simon run out to take over.


	6. KO!

**Sigh… I am so going to flunk Public Speaking if I continue to stay up all night writing these fanfics… Once again, I do not own Alvin and the Chipmunks. **

**(BTW, by my standards flunking is anything less than an A (I'm usually all right with an A-))**

Simon's foe was deliberately using the full ten seconds allotted for each move, hoping to make the game last long enough so that he would make it to the boxing round and cream Simon. Simon used the extra time the opponent took to plot his own moves, each of which he made in less than a second. He was sweating more profusely than Alvin or any of his foes had in the boxing ring.

_Get a grip,_ he told himself_. Nothing's going to go wrong. Alvin's around to take care of the boxing for you._

_But I just know that something is going to go wrong. Knowing Alvin…_

At the end of four minutes, Simon's foe was one turn away from being checkmated, and he knew it. That should put the pressure on him, Simon thought. "Pardon me, ref, but I have to use the bathroom again."

"_Again?"_

"Diarrhea!" Simon hurried on over to the restroom.

"Alvin, he's one turn away from losing, which means that he will be quite desperate to win. Expect all offense and no defense. And don't forget to float like a butterfly and sting like a bee".

"Gotcha." Alvin ran out the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Alvin bounced butterfly-like around the ring and showed no mercy with his sting-like punches. He feigned clumsiness a few times in keeping up with the charade, but he got right back up and knocked his foe in the gut right afterward.

At ten seconds left on the clock, the opponent was panting and weak-kneed from throwing all his might into his punches and from trying to keep up with Alvin's incredible agility. He caught his breath for one moment, then roused himself to fight.

In pretending to be Simon, Alvin allowed himself to be punched a few times – not hard enough to bruise, thank goodness, but enough to weaken him. He was already a bit tired from running around and giving his foe the one-two punch, and his foe was powerful, and could easily score a KO with one more punch. Alvin knew his best bet was to play it safe and dodge his foe for the last few seconds, especially since next turn was a guarantee victory for Simon anyway. But he also knew that he was equally capable of KOing his foe with one more punch. _Why should Simon get all the glory?_ he thought.

Alvin charged into his foe, both fists raised. At the count of the last second, the referee called knockout. The fist he raised into the air was Alvin's.

"Umm… may I use the bathroom again?" Alvin asked, clutching his stomach.

"Aww, come on, you can't possibly have overactive bladder and diarrhea that bad!"

"Um, actually…" Alvin brought his glove to his mouth. "All the adrenaline is making me… nauseous…"

Alvin ran to the bathroom and turned the handle to the door. It twisted all the way around and fell off in his hand.

Alvin pushed the door. It wouldn't budge. He stuck his finger through the hole left behind by the fallen doorknob, but he couldn't pull it open either.

"Simon, can you open the door? It appears to be, um broken…"

Simon exited the stall and attempted to push and pull the door open, but to no avail.

"Alvin, you broke the door."

"_I_ broke it? Why does everybody always blame everything on me?"

"Oh, I couldn't imagine why," said Simon sarcastically through the hole. "But never mind. You have to go out there and play chess."

"But I'm terrible at chess!"

"You have to do it, or you forfeit! You don't have to win; you only have to last long enough to make it to the boxing round. Just take the full ten seconds to make each move, and don't move any of the pieces adjacent to your king. In the meantime, I will try to find a way out through the air vents. Hurry up!"

Alvin returned to face his doom at the chess table.


	7. Fool's Mate

_(Disclaimer: _(sighs)_ Once again, I do not own Alvin and the Chipmunks)._

**To those of you who also read my story "Fart": I am sorry I haven't updated it in a while. If you want to know why, read my notice at the bottom of my profile.**

Alvin was playing white, so he had to make the first move.

Simon breathed hoarsely. _Ease up,_ he told himself. Alvin can't _possibly_ be bad enough to lose in the first round… right?

"Simon's first move is Pawn F to 3," announced the announcer.

Simon was listening with his ear to the hole in the door. _Bad move_, he thought.

The opponent's next move was Pawn E to 5.

_Please, Alvin, not Pawn G to 4_, Simon thought.

"Simon's next move is Pawn G to 4."

Simon's veins stiffened. The opponent's next move was Queen to H-4.

"Noooo! Not a Fool's Mate!" Simon screamed inside the bathroom.

Alvin's foe was declared champion. Dave went up to approach a sobbing and crouching Alvin.

"Sorry that you lost, Simon. I've never seen you lose like that. As a matter of fact, I've never seen you lose… period!"

"I've… got to go to the bathroom," Alvin sobbed, his voice tear-slurred beyond recognition. "This time… to cry my eyes out!"

"Now I know that you're not used to losing, Simon, but that's no reason to be a sore loser…"

Alvin ran to the bathroom, crying like a little girl.

Jeanette said, "I can't believe Simon would make such a novice mistake as that… I take that back. Even a novice wouldn't put himself in the position of Fool's Mate!"

Brittany said, "The stress of boxing must have gotten to him."

Jeanette said, "No, that was Alvin. Something must be wrong with Simon if they didn't switch out. I'm going to check."

"Alvin, were you trying to lose?" Simon hissed, furious at Alvin's stupidity. "All the years I've played chess with you and you still haven't learned not to make that foolish error?"

"Hey, I was going to lose anyway! Have you found a way out yet?" asked Alvin through the broken door.

"No, I'm afraid the air vent is too firmly secured."

"What's wrong with Simon?" Jeanette asked Alvin.

"Oh, hey, Jeanette, um…"

"It's ok, I know what's going on. And I swear not to tell, Chipette's honor."

"Jeanette!" said Simon. "Good to know you're here. Do you still have that baby screwdriver I gave you?"

Jeanette pulled out the mini Philips head that Simon had gotten from a model set and given to her after he was done with it. She handed it through the hole to Simon, who used it to quickly pick apart the lock that had been stuck in place since the handle broke off.

"But Dave, I have to go potty!" said Theodore's girlishly shrill voice, followed by Dave's sighing.

"You shouldn't have asked for an extra-large soda, Theodore."

"Quick! Hide in the stall!" Simon whispered to Alvin.

"You weep over the sink!" Alvin whispered back.

Simon had no trouble coaxing himself to weep.

Dave said, "It's all right to lose, Simon. There's always next year. Hey, what happened to your lucky socks?"

"What?" Simon looked at the pair he was wearing. "These are my lucky socks!"

"No, Simon, I am certain that I saw you wearing a different pair."

"Ok, I… I, uh… switched pairs. Those lucky socks turned out not to be so lucky after all. I threw them away."

Meanwhile Theodore was sitting on the toilet, finishing up his popcorn. Some of it fell on the floor, and he crawled under the side of his stall, into the stall where Alvin was hiding, to fetch it.

"Alvin? What are you doing here?"

"What's the matter, Theodore? Did you say Alvin?" asked Dave.

Alvin said, "Shhhh!" but Theodore exited out of Alvin's stall, and Dave saw who was inside that stall.

"What is going on… What the – ALLLVIIIN!"

"Checkmate," Simon declared, sternly more so than triumphantly.

"Darn… Simon, I thought you were going to go easy on me."

"I did go easy on you. I deliberately made a fatal blunder, and you failed to seize the opportunity. You need to learn to concentrate, Alvin, and to look at the board before you make your move. Chess requires much patience, something which you are quite deficient in."

"I've had enough chess for today. How about we practice your boxing!"

Each brother had decided that he would like to win a chessboxing trophy the next year or so, so they made a deal with each other: Simon would work on Alvin's chess-playing skills if Alvin would train him in boxing.

"You call that an uppercut? Granny Seville can throw a punch better than you! C'mon, Simon, show me what you've got!"

Simon cross-countered Alvin with each arm and knocked him to the floor. He was, after all, ambidextrous as well.

"Not bad. You know, since you're the best of the best when it comes to chess, and I'm …ahem… the best of the best when it comes to boxing, if I would just improve my chess a _little_ bit, and you would just improve your boxing a little more, then either one of us would be unbeatable at chessboxing!"

"Indeed. But how about when we face off against each other? I still believe that my profoundly superior chess skills will triumph over your above average boxing."

"Hah! Dream on! I can become good enough at chess, but I will always be able to beat you at boxing!"

"I challenge you to a match to prove it," said Simon. "Loser does the other's extra chores for the rest of the month."

Dave, after all, had assigned them extra chores for cheating at the chessboxing tournament.

"You're on! Let's start with the boxing!"

"No, we always start with the chess!"

"Boxing!"

"Chess!"

"Boxing!"

"Chess!"

"Ok, but we're only having it for two minutes!"  
"Alvin, two minutes is not standard! If you want to win next year, you have to practice by the rules!"

"Ok, but I want to be black! That way, I won't make a Fool's Mate again…"

**The End**


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